Murphy's Law.

One - hell hath no fury.

My first-ever piece of fanart, by the absolutely wonderful, and incomparable the-stars-are-my-bae . Infinite love, Katie. Infinite love.

~

Growing up, my mother liked to describe me as the 'difficult child'. I wish I could say I'd grown out of that title, but unfortunately I hadn't.

According to most people and science, the middle child is supposed to be the screw-up. But no, Farrah just followed on behind Aaron's perfect example of how to grow up Carter style.

Some might argue that after churning out two perfect specimens, my mother might have been too tired to harp on at me - yeah that's definitely not true.

Bugging people is my mother's entire existence. So I guess that just made me an exception to the rule.

Jacqueline Carter, freak of nature.

Speaking of my full title -

"Jacqueline? Are you almost ready?" my mother's voice floated up from downstairs, spurring me from my horizontal position on my bed over to my closet. I had come upstairs an hour ago under the pretence of getting myself ready, but then the internet happened and suddenly I was left with about five minutes tops.

"Yeah, almost," I yelled back, yanking the powder blue dress I knew Mom loved over my head and almost strangling myself in the process.

"Well hurry up and get down here, they should arrive any second."

You might be wondering as to who they are, and why their presence at dinner requires me to wear a dress I swore would never see the light of day after my uncles wedding last year. No, it's not the president. It's not even one of my parent's bosses.

The Carter household pulls out all the stops when the prodigal first child brings home his girlfriend. Not even for the first time, might I add.

I swear, Jessa more than likely thinks we live in formalwear.

I yanked a brush through my blonde hair, ignoring the worst of the tangles at the back. I was blessed with having both very thick, and very flat hair so I was crossing my fingers that the extra chaos might add some volume or something.

I could practically hear my mother's impatience growing as I legged it down the stairs, ignoring her disapproving glare as I slotted into place beside my father.

"Cutting it a bit fine, Jack," he teased, reaching out to ruffle my hair.

"Leave her hair alone, Walt," my mother snapped. She was tense, we all could see it, so Dad wisely stopped messing around and I tried desperately to pat the strands back into place.

"Here," Farrah whispered, stretching around Dad's back to lend a helping hand. I shot her a grateful grin.

The minutes ticked by slowly as we waited in the hall, and I tried to avoid fidgeting at all costs. That could earn me a lecture almost a half-hour long with Mom as wound up as she was.

"Oh, they're here!" Mom exclaimed loudly, practically throwing open the front door and running out to the driveway. We followed along behind at a slightly slower, less psychotic looking pace to find my mother smothering both Jessa, and my brother Aaron in over exuberant kisses. Aaron sort of just awkwardly patted her back for a bit, before finally pulling away to grin at us.

He gave Farrah and Dad a quick one-armed hug each, before moving towards me. "Jack-jack," he greeted, his formal façade dropping for a second as he punched my shoulder lightly "Get into any more trouble while I was away?"

"Me? Trouble?" I snorted, shoving him back "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Jacqueline, you're a lady, not a football player," my mother hissed through her smile as she ushered Jessa past us all into the house.